See No Evil, Speak No Evil
by You-Are-A-Fridge-With-Wingss
Summary: WINGS!Calamity Jones and Iggy Griffiths, from district nine, are chosen to compete in the hunger games. What will happen to them, with their disadvantages? T for violence and swearing! Very AU, sorta angsty.
1. The Reaping

**A/N basically, I thought the world needed an Iggy hunger games/MR crossover. If anyone reviews, can you suggest a better name? I dislike this one… anyway, chapter one!**

Cal POV

I stare at the baby blue dress with the cream sash spread on the dirty sheets of my bed. I hate it. It's beautiful, gorgeous to wear, and makes me feel like a princess, but I hate what it symbolised. Reaping Day. The day all of us in nine fear the most.

I recall past reaping days. The first, when I was twelve, my brother got taken. The second, at thirteen, my cousin. At fourteen, my sister, and at fifteen, last year, my best friend, Jet. I remember the crippling sadness when their names were called, and the deep, shameful relief that it wasn't me. But today, I have to face the ball of names again, where Calamity Jones appears sixteen times. This is because I need the tesserae to get food for my family- now just my mother and father, but before my sister and brother as well. Father can't get us the money to pay for food- he was incapacitated by an eagle attack while producing pets for the capitol.

I tug the dress over my head, and turn to look into the small, tarnished mirror. The baby blue, flowing skirt falls to just above my knees, and my waist is pinched in by the cream sash. My neck is encircled by the cream lace collar. I clasp on my only piece of jewellery, a tiny, delicate golden feather on a fine chain. I've decided that it would be my token if I get reaped. My light caramel hair is swishing around the tops of my thighs. I never cut my hair. There's no point. I frown with discomfort, as the too tight dress squashes my huge, tawny wings.

That's right, folks! I have wings and yes, I can fly. Bit of a shock for mother dear when she found out, that's for sure! But what do you expect living by five and their experimental explosives?

The hour has come sooner than I thought. My mother walks into the room, to take me to the reaping. She looks calm, but I could tell she thinks it is going to be me, next, from the terrified look in her eyes. I nod at her, and walk silently from the room. Not even my feet, in their impractical, cream patent shoes, tap on the stone floor. I emerge from our shabby, one-up-one-down house. Across the street, some teenagers call me.

"Cal!" I raise my hand to them, and walk over.

"Where're you going?" they ask.

_To the reaping_. I mime.

Why did I mime? You ask. Well, in a similar accident to the one that incapacitated my father, an eagle ripped my voice box out. I got off lightly. One boy, Iggy Griffiths, who worked next to me, got attacked as well. An eagle slashed his eyes, and he was blinded. He ran to help me once he'd seen what happened, and he was unlucky that the eagle was diving again.

The reaping arena is in front of me now, after a walk of listening to the others' conversation and trying to contribute to conversation- unsuccessfully. We separate, the boys to the far left of the square, and the girls to the right. I spot some girls and guys from my class in school. I frown as I walk into formation, thinking that this will be the first year that I and Jet won't do our traditional "and may the odds be _ever_ in your favour!"

I stand rigidly in formation, now cold in my stupid dress. I think about how the Hunger Games have taken almost everyone I loved. My brother was killed by a career, my cousin starved to death, my sister was swallowed by a volcanic eruption and Jet was killed by that career that turned cannibal and began to eat his victims. And the capitol finds entertainment in innocent children getting slaughtered!

The bright, jovial voice of Cherry Blossom, our district's escort, rings out across the square, suggesting celebration and excitement. The whole of nine glares at her in stony silence. Cherry looks perplexed, she has never quite grasped the fact that we don't _enjoy_ sending our families off to their doom. However, she soldiers on, and introduced our district's only mentor, Felix Stevenson, who has already crept on stage, as silently as a cat, and startled her.

Felix himself won his games by just staying out of the way. Whenever he encountered a tribute, he just snuck off and waited for all the others to kill each other. I, personally, think that that was an excellent tactic, and one that I would employ if I were to get chosen.

"Happy hunger games!" calls Cherry "and may the odds be _ever_ in your favour!" nine is silent. I love my district. She blunders for a second, but recovers herself.

"Ladies first!" she trills, and plunges her hand into the faintly pink tinted glass ball. She pulls out a name, and reads it aloud.

"Emma Smith!" she calls and a small twelve year old gives a cry. I remember dimly that her tesserae was all that kept her family alive this year. I almost let out a gasp of surprise. My _only_ surviving cousin, called at the reaping! Are they trying to eliminate everyone I'm connected to? Then I realise. I'm the link. For some reason the capitol hates me. I can't let anyone else get hurt.

A gasp ran round the square, and I could hear my mother crying, Emma thanking me loudly, and Iggy Griffiths saying "what is it? What happened?" Cherry looks completely nonplussed, then recovers herself and begins clapping brightly. Alone. I wonder what it is like inside her head. It is probably all rainbow-y. With a few unicorns wandering around as well.

"Now for the boys!" she calls out, and then pulls a second name from a slightly blue tinted glass ball.

"Iggy Griffiths!"


	2. I'm not deaf, you know

**A/N tada! Next chapter! Quite proud of this one, very long. For me… I'm sorry that calamity turned out so… sarcastic. She appears to have developed our dry, British, trademark sense of humour. Ah, well. Oh, and I forgot to do this last time-**

**Disclaimer- I own neither the hunger games, or Maximum Ride and Iggy. I do, however, own Calamity, Cherry Blossom, and Felix.**

I sit on the overstuffed, shiny sofa in the justice building, squashed between my mother and father. I can hear Iggy Griffith's mother in the next room, crying loudly. I look over to my mother. She's not crying, but her hands are clenched so hard the knuckles are white, her face is pale and her lips are clamped tightly together, as if she is scared she would start screaming, or crying, or both.

"Why?" I look over at my father. He looks as though someone just jumped out from behind a lamppost and yelled boo at him. Like, loudly. With a mask on. Maybe some fake blood and a knife thrown in, too.

_You guys can look after yourselves. Her family can't_ I reply. I see my father fighting down annoyance. Not well, apparently.

"Oh, dear god, when are you going to stop being so damn noble? You're not going to have time to change your ways now!" my mother jumps, and stares at my father with wide, brown eyes. Then she bursts loudly into tears. These are strangely more reassuring than the silence. I shoot my father a "look what you've done_ now" _look, and try to comfort my mother. She just cries harder. I'm almost relieved when the peacekeepers come to take them away. I sign_ I love you_ at them, but I'm not sure they see. No-one else comes to see me, and I have to wait for an hour until it's time to go to the station and board the train.

I feel a childish flutter of excitement when the train glides into the station. I've never been on a train, before. I think I'm beginning to accept my death, and therefore enjoy some of the small pleasures of life.

Iggy Griffiths walks up next to me, and stands there silently for a few seconds as the train finishes pulling into the station. This is not awkward at all. I can't even say hi.

"Erm, hey" he said. Oh, great. How can I reply? Any suggestions? Nope. Fine, then. I tapped the back of his hand in a lame greeting.

"So, erm… trains, huh?" no offence to him or anything, but he does seem slightly dense. I cannot make conversation. I tap the back of his hand again, and decide this will be my reply to everything he says until he goes away.

"You know, this one goes, like, super-fast." Yes, well done. I sigh loudly and tap the back of his hand.

"Erm, can you reply, please? I can't tell if you're nodding and whatnot." Ohh, he honestly doesn't know I'm mute! Oops. Actually, I feel quite offended. I remembered he was blind. I wave Cherry Blossom over, and gesture to my throat, then to Iggy. She looks at me blankly. I repeat the action, as the train doors open. She still doesn't get it. I keep doing this as we walk through the train doors.

"I CANNOT UNDERSTAND YOUR SIGN LANGUAGE!" she yells slowly. God, what do they feed the people in the capitol? Stupid juice? I pull some paper out of my pocket (why didn't I think of that before?) and wrote, all in capitals, _I AM NOT DEAF! _Then chewed the end of my pencil, and added _could you please tell Iggy I'm mute? We're having communication problems._ I resist the urge to scrawl "duh" at the end, and proudly present the paper to Cherry. Revelation dawns on her face, and she turns to Iggy as we walk into a room mostly occupied with a huge, long table. Covered in food. Mm, food.

"CALAMITY CANNOT REPLY BECAUSE SHE IS MUTE!" Cherry yells. You can tell the woman has a way with words, eh? I note with satisfaction that Iggy looks annoyed at Cherry, and embarrassed at the same time. It makes him look like a chimp.

"I'm not deaf, you know." He tells Cherry calmly, then turns to me. Kind of creepy… "I'm sorry, I didn't realize." I mentally smack my forehead with my hand. What does he not get about I cannot reply? I sigh and give a very unladylike grunt, the walk off to sit down. At least, I try to walk off to sit down. What actually happens is I glance back, and see Iggy standing helplessly on the other side of the room. Oh, yeah. He can't see the table. I sigh at my own weakness, and think, even as I walk over and take his wrist, _you're going to have to kill this guy_. I lead him quickly over to the table, and then sit as far away as I can. Felix and Cherry sit down too. Wait, when did Felix get here? Man, this guy's good. I can see how he won his games. Some capitol assistants come and try to serve us, but I wave mine away. I can't look helpless. They'll pick me out and go for me first if they think I have any sign of weakness. I know no tributes are here, but I'm worried about rumours reaching them of the helpless little mute girl. I quickly ladle some sort of rice dish onto my plate.

"Ahem." Says Cherry. "Now, even though this year I have two severely handicapped tributes-"she stops, mid-flow, because Felix has put a hand up to stop her. He's seen me writing furiously on a paper napkin.

_Who're you calling handicapped? _ I hand the paper over. The message makes no sense at all, but I just want her to know I sure as hell haven't given up yet, and won't do in the near future. She glares at me, but then continues.

"Now, I don't think it would be in your best interests to pair up together-"I cut her off with a glare. I snatch the napkin back and scrawl _I want Griffiths for an ally._ What can I say? I will do anything to annoy this woman. Also, I reckon he has pretty good hearing. I consider for a split second, then add _we have a week. We can work out some method of communication. _I thrust the napkin at her, then begin eating my food, to show I don't want to listen to her any more. I see Iggy patting the table cloth, and don't quite understand. Then I realize- he can't find his fork. I smile to see he obviously has no intention of listening to Cherry, either, and tap the table by his fork. He grins at me, and picks it up. He starts eating, never spilling a drop. I turn away from him, and continue eating my food.

"Hey, you two! Slow down, it's not gonna disappear! You'll make yourself sick, and that's the last thing you need." Felix speaks quietly. I look up at him, grin, and continue eating, but at a slightly slower pace. When I finish, I ladle myself another helping. Then another. Finally, I sit back and contentedly sip orange juice while I wait for Iggy to finish.

Finally, he swallows the last of his fourth helping of some sort of stew, then turns his face towards Cherry and Felix, though looking somewhere eight inches above them.

"the reaping recap is on now." Says Felix, and flicks on a TV on the far wall. He describes the tributs from each district. Both district one's look quite beaten up- the boy has only one eye, and the girl is covered in scars. Volunteers, of course. District two has a good looking boy and girl, very similar. They could be twins, with their blonde hair and blue eyes of the exact same shade. I dub them the Aryan Twins. District three offers up a small twelve year old boy, and a girl with plaits and glasses. District Four has the predictable muscly pair. District five- now, this ones interesting. The boy is a typical scared little shrew, but the girl- she looks like trouble. Eyes so dark that they're practically black, and short brown hair cut in pixie-type fashion. She gives a sly grin and wink as she walks up on stage. Six and seven are boring, eight yields a tiny girl with a determined face, then we come to us. I see myself volunteer, and notice something I didn't at the time. I have a triumphant smile on my face, like I've beaten the system, and the scar on my throat makes me look feral, almost like I'd volunteered because I had a shot at winning. The commentators describe me as "nines first ever career", which is promising, but does not help my budding "lie low, run away" strategy. Eleven is uneventful, and twelve has a muscly boy and another feral girl. Great, the composition looks bad this year. We sit in silence for a few seconds, then-

"Right!" starts Cherry, taking a quick sip of some wine. I notice Felix is avoiding it. "Calamity has revealed that she wishes to ally with you, Iggy. Is this acceptable?" Iggy looks shocked for a second, then recovers his calm mask.

"Fine with me. You can probably move like a cat. Easy for you to get food." I smile at him, but then remember he can see.

_You hear really well. No-one will sneak up on you. _I mime to Felix, who says it aloud. Iggy grins at me, then reaches out and pulls a berry from a fruit tureen in front of him. He chucks it in the air and catches it expertly in his mouth. Now, I must say, that's impressive. Now let's just hope he can aim a spear that well.

"Okay, so we've established that you will be allies. I'll see you tomorrow, when we get to the capitol! Toodle-oo!" Cherry calls. I watch her bob out of the room. I catch Felix's eye, and laugh slightly.

"We'll sort out strategies and stuff when we get to the capitol. I recommend you two spend your time trying to come up with a means of communication. Do either of you know Morse code?" Felix asks quietly. Without waiting for an answer, he creeps out of the room. Iggy turns to me.

"Do you?" he asks. I make a little uh-uh grunting noise in the back of my throat, and his face falls. I write _can you read?_ On a scrap of paper, and pass it to a capitol servant wandering by, miming speech. They read it out.

"Yeah, but I can't see anymore, though." No-freaking-duh, I think. Then I grab his hand, and pull it towards me. He looks surprised but does not protest. I flip over the hand so that its back faces up, and trace letters onto it with my finger.

_So you can tell what I'm saying now?_ I write. His face breaks into a wide, sunny smile.

"Brilliant!" he says. Over the next half an hour, we work out some basic communications. One grunt for yes, two for no. two taps on the back of the hand as a general alert. One whistle tune for danger, another for safety, a third for _come here_, and a fourth for _go back. _ When Cherry finally comes to tell us to go to bed, we're feeling well and truly proud of ourselves.

Iggy walks me back to my room, and gives me an awkward hug goodnight. I stand there, not sure what to do, for a maximum of one second, and pat his back. He steps back and blushes. I find his hand.

_Tactics? _I say, trying to distract myself from the last few seconds.

"Hide. Defiantly. If there's anything close and useful at the cornucopia, I'll grab it. But then run."

_How will you tell? At the cornucopia._ He doesn't reply. I don't think he knows. Maybe that's why he agreed to be my ally? So I can tell him what's good at the cornucopia?

"Night" he says quickly, and walks off. I sigh to myself, and go into my room. It's huge, about the same size as our entire house at home. Against the wall is a large, double bed covered with a silky duvet. Next to me was a chest of drawers. I dug around in it, and was pleased to find a pair of cream leggings, a burgundy top and a leather jacket. I set them aside, and changed into a long white night-dress. I carefully folded up my dress, and placed it into the empty top drawer of the chest.

I walked across the room, snapped off the light, and slid into bed. My head had hardly touched the pillow before I'd fallen asleep.

**Remember guys, reviews make me feel like some-one actually cares if this gets updated except for me, and then I update more. **

**~Fridgey **


	3. Takes One To Know One

**A/N: ohmygosh, could it be? I'm actually alive? :O thanks for reading and reviewing, all of you! 3**

Cal POV

In the morning, we're all in the food carriage, eating breakfast. I'm in a pair of cream leggings and a burgundy tunic. I probably won't get to keep them for long. My district token hangs round my neck on top of my tunic. After completely pigging out yesterday, I've started to control what I've been eating. I don't want to get sick from all of this rich food, just before the games, do i? Of course, it's too much to hope for, a silent meal. It's not like I want to mentally prepare myself for the most likely horrific events to come within the next few hours.

"we'll be arriving in the Capitol in ten minutes, guys and girls!" chirps Cherry "pack your bags!" we all stare at her blankly, then continue eating. It's not long before I see hordes of grotesquely mutated people, waving at the train.

_I think we've arrived. I can see some people with weird hair, and some that look half animal, and a…_ I stop writing on Iggy's hand. What _is_ that? _And a zebra poppy rainbow unicorn polka-dot cross thing. With a koala bear sitting on its head._

"is that a fashion, or just surgery gone wrong?" I laugh, sounding quite odd because of my lack of vocal chords, then start towards the train door, ready to suck up to some rich freaks in the hopes that they stop me dying. Just as I'm about to step out, a hand grabs my shoulder. Reflexively, I snap round and thwack the culprit on the back of the head, hard.

"ow." Says Felix, seemingly annoyed, but unable to keep the grin off his face. I smile nervously.

_Sorry, reflexes._ He laughs at me, and tells me not to fight the stylists. _Not likely, _ I think, but don't actually say anything.

We step off the train and take a short walk to the remake centre, which is a tall, colourful building, identical to all the other tall, identical building that makes up the capitol. I smile and wave at the citizens, and make Iggy do it too. If we're allies, we need to present a united front. It doesn't happen a lot, and hopefully we'll stand out from the crowd. Not too much, though, not too much.

The second we step into the remake centre, I'm whisked to one side, and Iggy's led off the other. I'm half taken, half dragged into a plain white room, containing three very un-plain… humans, I suppose. One has shaggy hair down to their waist, and round bear ears coming from the top. She introduces herself as Ferre. Another has skin the colour of the sky and, strangely, the texture of velvet. She's called Caelum. The third is obviously in charge, and the most showy. His skin is golden and encrusted with all different gems. His lips are studded with rubies, and his nails covered in diamonds. I think the three of them are freaks, but hey, takes one to know one.

"I'm Niteo, I'm your head stylist. I'm going to need you to remove those clothes." Says Glitter-Guy. Yeah, no thanks. I glare at him. Then, I remember Felix's oh-so-inspiring words, and reluctantly remove my clothes. All three of them gasp, and I remember. Oh, yeah. The wings. Ferre takes a little step forward, and strokes one tentatively. I slowly unfurl them, and wrap them around myself to cover up. They all gasp again, at their sheer size. I'm not surprised, to be honest. I'm going to sound hugely full of myself, here, but my wings are gorgeous. Dark caramel in colour, they are siply beautiful. I grin, and fold them back in against my spine. Niteo seems to come to himself slightly, and suddenly says

"I think we'll keep this to ourselves. Give Papilio a bit of a surprise when he comes!" the other two laugh, and Caelum and Ferre both pick up little pots of gunk and begin to slather it all over my legs.

_What's that for?_ I write on a piece of paper I find on the table. They grin evilly, and when I find out, god, I wish I didn't know.

time skip, baby! 

Three hours later, Niteo stands in front of me smugly.

"I think she's done. Rub her down, ladies!" he calls to Ferre and Caelum. They come forward with bottles of some kind of thick lotion, which they start smoothing over my sore (but completely hairless) body. It stings at first, but then soothes my skin. They let me put my thin, white robe back on as Niteo walks over to an intercom thing on the wall, and talks into it for a while. Ferre smiles at me as she says

"you can sit down. Papilio will be a few minutes yet." I smile back at her as she leads me to another room containing a plush red sofa. Out of all the stylists, Ferre is my favourite. Despite the bear ears, she seems the most human. Possibly because her face is not blue, or sparkly. She leaves the room, and I'm left on my own.

Due to my monkey-like attention span, within minutes I'm bored. I stand up and study the room. In front of me is a coffee table, with nothing on it, an behind that is a leather armchair. Lining the walls are pictures of the most famous district nine costumes. There aren't many. I walk over and study them closely. Then a terrifying thought comes to me. What if I'm naked and covered in feathers or something? Oh god, that can't happen. I look around for something to write on, and see an _I hate Mondays_ poster on the wall. Seriously? I am not going to be able to take this Papilio guy seriously, now. I rip it down, and find a pen that's fallen between the sofa cushions. I scrawl on it for a few seconds, then fold up the poster and tuck it into the pocket of my robe.

Suddenly, the door opens, and in comes a young guy, I'd say about twenty-five, with blonde hair and blue eyes. His entire body is tattooed with multi-coloured butterflies. Cute. He wears a simple white shirt and black trousers.

"Hey, Calamity, I'm Papilio, your-" he stops here, because I've put up a hand to stop him. I yank the poster from my pocket, and hand it over to him. He looks slightly annoyed that I've pulled down his poster, but reads the words on it anyway. His face breaks into a grin, and he starts laughing hysterically. He drops the paper, and it spirals down to land on the coffee table. I re-read the words.

_I want some clothes, 'kay?_ Papilio finally manages to choke out a sentence.

"don't worry, you're not going to be naked." I smile with relief. "now, I hear you're very odd in some way? Niteo seemed quite excited, but he wouldn't tell me what was so special." I stare at him blankly for a few seconds, then have a sudden epiphany. _Oh, the wings._ I turn away from him, and slide my robe down a little, just enough to reveal my wings for a second time. He gasps, comes forward to touch them. At the last second he catches himself.

"may i?" I nod my approval, and he strokes them, not unlike Ferre. Then he flees the room and returns moments later with a pad and some pencils. He talks as he sketches furiously.

"your wings are gorgeous. I think we could build them into your costume, like have a gown of feathers with your wings coming out the back. We could build some mechanical ones for your district partner, and pretend your's are mechanical too. I gather you want to keep them a secret for the games, in case you need a quick escape?" he stops suddenly, and looks at me for conformation. I nod, slightly, kind of surprised at his sort of mental reaction to my wings, and he grins and returns to his sketching. He finishes his design, and shows it to me proudly. As I haven't the slightest idea about fashion, but don't want to offend him, I nod knowledgably and give him a thumbs up. Apparently this was the right thing to do because he grins ecstatically. he jumps up and runs to the intercom on the wall. He babbles into it for a minute, before a confused look replaces the excited one on his face. he turns away from the intercom and looks me in the eye.

"I'll just be a minute." He flees the room. Fantastic. I get the mental stylist. I pick his sketchbook back up, and flick through the designs slowly. It doesn't take long before he returns with a suitbag.

"we'll have to make a few minor alterations, but other than that, we're good to go!" he grins at me as he pulls out a long, flowing, empire-line gown covered in material feathers. Papilio must have been planning this for months before the actual event. I smile back at his expectant face, and he practically glows with happiness. Then he glances at his watch.

"ohmygosh, look at the time! You must be starving!" I nod in reply, and he calls in an Avox bearing a tray of food. She's a tiny brunette girl, and she glances at me curiously as she lays down the tray. I grin at her in thanks, and she almost smiles back, almost. Papilio sees me smiling at her.

"she's an Avox. She can't speak." Well, duh. I grab the poster again.

_I know the feeling._ He looks at me in pity, and the little Avox girl frowns in empathy as she leaves the room. I watch her through the glass door for a few seconds, then turn to the tray of food. I'm glad to see it's covered in bread, grain and meat. Great, I'd better start carb loading and eating lots of protein. I tuck in as Papilio starts taking in the dress. Mmm, bread.

O0o0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0 another time skip, whoo! 0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

I pull the dress on over my head, and Ferre and Papilio come forward to adjust my makeup. An Avox comes in and leads us to the stables where they keep all the chariot horses. I'm glad I'm not wearing a tree costume, like some people from district 8. I spot Iggy in a simple grey suit, stroking a horse. I walk up behind him and tap his hand, and he whirls round and nearly hits me. I duck, though, and tap his hand again. He flushes bright red.

"sorry, I thought you were one of the careers, come to pick a fight or something." I laugh slightly.

_It's okay, you're not the only paranoid one. Lets just hope your hyper-senses come in handy once we're out there trying not to get killed to death. _He laughs loudly, attracting curious stares from other tributes. I almost think _let them stare_, but then I remember my strategy- be average, forgettable, and hope everybody ignores you. A Capitol attendant walks through and tells us to get on our chariots. We'll be going out ninth. I run through my instructions from Papilio, unfold my wings about three meters after the stable doors. Make them look mechanically. Yay. The district one chariot, containing Cyclops and Scarface, leaves first. They glare forward. 'cause that's how you get sponsors. The Aryan Twins go second, and soon follows the geeky pair, and the District Four careers. I wait through the others, until district eight's tiny little girl nudges the snivelling boy in annoyance as they start to leave. I like this girl. Suddenly, our chariot jerks forward and we leave the safety of the stables.

My feathery dress flutters around my knees as we progress slowly forward. Papilio said to stay motionless until we take out our wings. He did say to unfurl them slowly "like a flower growing", but I decide that's not really my style. Apparently, me and Iggy are on the same wavelength, and we both snap out our wings at the same time. The crowd goes nuts. They start throwing roses and confetti. I smile around at them, blowing kisses and waving. I catch a rose from the air, and stick it to Iggy's lapel, as I look at his wings. They're huge and pale, pale grey. My wing brushes against his and I swear its warm. Must be the mechanism, giving off heat. He smiles down at me, and I register how tall he is. He plucks another rose from the air and skewers it in my floating hair. We turn back away from each other, and carry on waving to the crowd.

Finally, we pull into the square outside the training centre, and are met by Papilio, and Iggy's stylist, a silvery woman with scales and gills like a salmon, called Piscis. The Training Centre is a huge building, walled floor to ceiling in glass panels that gleam smoothly in the sunset. I crack my knuckles and turn to Papilio, pulling a sheet of paper out of a hidden pocket in my dress.

_When can we leave? I'm knackered._ He grins at me. I glance over to where Piscis and Iggy are. From what I hear, they're having a similar conversation.

"we just have to wait for President Snow to give his speech, then you can go do whatever you like" I sigh in annoyance at the prospect of a speech and, forgetting momentarily that my wings are supposed to be mechanic, I give them a little shake out to ease the stiffness. Papilio shoots me a look and I pull an apologetic face. luckily, no-one saw, I don't think.

President Snow walks out and begins addressing the cameras. I tune out- I never had the longest attention span. His speech is thankfully short, and, from the bits I could be bothered to listen to, running along the same lines as usual. Snow disappears with a wave and a smattering of applause, and the collected tributes slowly disperse into the Training Centre. I stroll over to Iggy, tucking my wings against my back in what's supposed to be a mechanical movement. I tap his hand and lead him into the Training Centre, through a lobby type thing and into the lift. We step in and press the button just as a boy and a girl come running for the lift.

"hold the door!" calls the boy, who I would say is about fifteen or sixteen, while the girl appears to be only about twelve. I remember that they're from five, recognising the determined, angry look on the girls face. I smile at them amiably as I hit the "hold lift" button. They walk in, out of breath from running, just before the door closes. The boy smiles gratefully and I nod, hoping he'll just leave us alone. What I did by holding the lift just made him about twelve times harder to kill, or even watch die. I don't need him making it harder still. He evidently doesn't agree.

"Hey, I'm Cole" he introduces himself with the happy, bumbling manner of the eternally cheerful. "and this is Amy" he gestures to the girl, who stares at the floor angrily.

"I'm Iggy, and this is Calamity." Says Iggy. he scuffs the floor with his shoe and twiddles his thumbs. I remember suddenly we haven't pressed the button and mentally facepalm. I jab at the nine button, the nudge Cole and point to the five, asking for confirmation. He looks at me weirdly, like "why didn't you just ask?" but doesn't push the subject.

"yeah, we're five. I'm just trying to guess if the fact you've noticed us is a good thing or a bad thing!" I smile blandly and look away. Gods sakes, how long does this freaking lift take?

"hey, you two are the ones from nine, right?" Cole presses on. In a kind of "you will make small talk, damnit!" way. I smile and nod again.

"oh, yeah. You were both in the accidents, right?" little Amy pipes up. I nod at her as the lift reaches the fifth floor. They bundle out, Amy striding off and Cole turning round to get a last look

"nice to meet you!" he calls as the doors of the lift swish shut. Iggy turns to me.

"well, that wasn't one of the most awkward experiences of my life…"


	4. Maybe Try To BLOCK The Punch?

**A/N: ****nothing like revision for your chemistry mock to get you in the mood for writing. Yes, I know I'm a horrible person, but lets just get this straight from now- this will most likely be infrequent updates. I'll try, but no promises, 'kay? M'kay. Oh, and Koth? HERES YOUR FREAKING CHAPTER NOW STOP NAGGING ME! :D enjoy! (yeah, never did get to four thousand words, did it?)**

Cal POV

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead! Its time for-" Cherry stops talking suddenly. It may have something to do with the shoe I threw with considerable force at the door. She walks away grumbling as I tumble out of the bed with a thump. Groaning, I drag myself off the floor and stumble towards the bathroom. I peer blearily at the panel of buttons on the wall, then scrub my eyes and properly look. I thought I had double vision for the amount of switches and levers. It looks more like the cockpit of a hovercraft than a shower. I sigh and slam my hand onto the panel, pressing a multitude of random buttons.

Fifteen minutes later I emerge from my heaven of warm water, football sized bubbles and a lime-smelling foam that I had to turn off the water for and scrape it off with my hands. I poke a button which seems to have a little picture of some swirls on it. I think it is a little symbol for air, meaning I could dry myself off. Instead it turns the tiny cubicle into a steam-filled sauna. Fail.

Finally, I manage to dry myself off and sort my hair. Pulling on some plain grey leggings and a light blue tunic, I walk out the door. Padding across the carpeted floor, I spot Iggy outside the lift. I walk over to him. He's wearing about the same as me, and his strawberry blonde hair is messed up.

_Come here, scruff_ I I tap on his hand. He jumps, then grins at me.

"Don't creep up on me! It freaks me out." I smile and start combing through his hair with my fingers. He, in turn, ruffles my hair. I pull away, annoyed, and give my head a little shake. My waist length hair settles back around my neck.

The lift comes and we get on. I poke the button and step back.

"So, got any orders for food, oh great controller of everything?" he says with a roll of the eyes. Hmm, I think he may be getting slightly annoyed at my control-freak-ness. Oh, well, better offended than dead.

_Yes, actually. Carbs for energy and protein for muscles._ We step off the lift and into a room full of food. I pile my plate with bread and bacon.

"Are muffins carbs?" asks Iggy. I grunt once (in a very ladylike fashion) and he grins and grabs a plateful. He sits next to me and somehow manages to stuff an entire muffin in his mouth at once. I stare in awe for second, then shake myself.

_You can't live on muffins. Go get some bacon._ He laughs and marches off with a small salute, returning with the bacon as Felix comes in to the room.

"Good morning." He says simply. Iggy waves and I nod in acknowledgement. It's not long before we have finished and have to go down into the training room. Just as we're walking up to the lift, Felix catches my shoulder.

"Now, don't forget, go around together, you want to put out a united front. Other than that, do not draw attention to yourselves. Speak to other tributes only when spoken to and be polite. Focus on survival skills and a bit on hand to hand combat. Avoid weapons and careers like the plague. Got that?" we both nod as the lift doors open and we get on. It's only seconds before they open again and we step into a room filled with tributes and weapons. Methinks this is not a good combination.

We're early, and the only other tributes are the Careers, talking loudly and eyeing the swords and clubs, District three, the older girl holding some sort of disassembled electronic device and talking to the boy, who nods occasionally and, unluckily, Amy and Cole from yesterday. I spot a dark corner next to the fire building station and hurry towards it, towing Iggy along like a child. I'm only half way there when Cole spots us and calls us over. Loudly. Loudly enough, in fact, for the careers to look over in interest.

"Hey! Hey Calamity! Iggy!" Cole yells. Amy rolls her eyes as the Careers snigger and even Specs looks over curiously. I hurry over, dragging Iggy by the hand, and give Cole my best death glare. He shuts up immediately. I trace letters onto Iggys hand and he translates for me.

"um, Calamity says 'what are you doing? We're trying to not get noticed here and you're screaming out our names! Please please don't do that again, it's hard enough to be inconspicuous as it is!` is that everything?" I tap his hand once and he nods, then joins me in my death-glaring. Cole at first looks confused, then like he's going to cry. Satisfied that everybody's more occupied by the other's starting to file into the room, I nod at Cole apologetically and take a few steps to the side. Iggy quits glaring and starts chatting to Cole amiably. I catch a few words, including "she has this crazy idea that if we try and be inconspicuous, we could get ignored. Yeah like the freakishly tall blind guy and the strangely short mute girl are gonna get ignored."

I cross my arms and glance around with interest at the other tributes. Twelve's tributes are both here, looking much less scary on camera, and the girl from five is eyeing up the weapons. She does not look less scary on camera, and I immediately put her on me "stay away from" list, along with the careers. After a few minutes Iggy stops talking to Cole and steps over toward me. We stand in companiable silence until the trainer, Atala, walks in. she gives us ground rules. I tune out, and the only one I hear is "don't fight the other tributes". Good, I'm glad we got that cleared up. We wander over to the edible plants station when she finishes up, and spend an hour or so learning what not to eat. We only stop and move on after Iggy gets bored and just starts squishing up the berries and trying to paint war stripes on my face.

The next station we go to is the fire making station. We're only there five minutes before I learn that Iggy can make almost anything set on fire. I finally stop trying to breathe life into my bone-dry wood, and instead watch him successfully light a number of things, from the small planks they gave us to practise with, to some wet branches, finally a chair. We only stop when we get called for lunch.

At lunch I was planning to sit by myself, with Iggy of course, but to my surprise I am called over by Cole. He seems to have made friends with the muscly boy from twelve. I must admit, I kind thought he would have been with the careers, but I soon find out that he is about as far as a ruthless killing machine as they come. He speaks little, but then in a slow, low voice. Close up, I see his eyes are heavy-lidded and he moves almost lethargically. I can't imagine him in a fight. Iggy strikes up a conversation as I pick at my potatoes and meat. I listen attentively, and find out that twelve knows far more than he lets on. I discover that already, from just moving from station to station, he has picked up a lot about the tributes and how they work. Maybe this is his strategy. After lunch, Iggy and I wander down to hand to hand combat.

I thought that neither of us would excel at this, but I am pleasantly surprised. We can do fairly well on the practise dummies, and tentatively ask the trainer to practise with us. Iggy takes first go, and I see an almost pitying look on the trainers face as he takes up position. It isn't there for long, though, as he soon learns that Iggy can feel the movements of the air and hear his limbs coming, and can fight them off expertly. The trainer's eyes harden and he ramps it up a notch, but tis still a fair few minutes before he manages to floor Iggy. I find I'm grinning, but my smile soon fades as I realise that now I must try it.

I settle into the fighting stance the trainer taught us and get ready. The trainer swings his arm and I completely embarrass myself by leaping backwards then scurrying round behind the trainer. He turns to face me.

"Good, but maybe this time try to _block_ the blow?" I flush red and nod. He swings again and I try to block his blow, but still get a punch in the gut. I'm winded_, _but manage to stay upright and aim a punch at his nose. He blocks it easily, so I try a roundhouse kick. We carry on like this for a while, before he stops me.

"listen, no offense but you're kind of bad at this, but maybe it's just this style. You're not really built for plain old punching, but maybe you could use your frame to your advantage? I don't know, maybe try and dodge punches rather than blocking them? Just keep moving."

I nod, annoyed that he took my original strategy and made it seem like his idea, and resume my stance. He jabs at my stomach and this time, instead of blocking it, I doge out of the way and round his back. Before he can spin round, I leap onto his back and grab his head between my hands. This is the point where, if her were a tribute, I would break his neck. I smile to myself as I jump off his back, shake his hand and wander over to the knot-tying station, where me and Iggy learn to set a decent snare for the next few hours, before climbing back into the lift to return to our floor.

I was hoping it would be just us in the lift, but no such luck. By some strange twist of fate, we end up in the same lift as the careers. They chat and laugh uproariously between themselves, except one, who watches me and Iggy converse quietly from the corner. He's one of the Aryan twins, and seems almost interested in the way I trace letters and tap them in Morse code on the back of Iggy's hand, but doesn't say anything. Just watches. It's quite unnerving and I'm glad when he gets off the lift and leaves us to ourselves.

Soon, the lift slows and stops at the twelfth floor. We make our way immediately to dinner, which I skipped last night and ate in my room. We sit down and an Avox comes and serves us. He's very tall, with shaggy, unkempt brown hair, and I notice he's giving me a curious look as he ladles stew onto my plate. I nod in thanks, unnerved, and fiddle with my fork as I wait for Iggy to get his food. We sit eating for a few minutes until Felix walks in, followed by Cherry. Felix talks tactics, but most of it just goes over my head. I daydream and I methodically shovel spoonfuls of soup into my mouth, and it takes a couple of minutes to register that I've drained my bowl and am just eating air. I shake myself, and wait till Felix has finished talking, then mime going up to bed. He nods, then goes back to talking to Cherry. I slip silently out of the room, attracting no more looks, aside from a final sidelong glance from the Avox. His eyes are full of meaning, but I just can't quite decipher it.

I creep along the corridor, gazing out of the wall to ceiling windows. In the silence, I note how loud my footsteps are, and change the way I walk so that my heel touches the floor first, then my weight rolls along my foot. I smile a little to myself. Even on this polished wood flooring, I'm totally soundless. _Totally soundless_ I think to myself, and the smile slides from my face.


	5. Scars

**Warning! This chapter contains not-so-mild swearing at the end. Just a heads-up.**

For the next few days, every day seems to blend into one another. Cherry knocks on my door, I hurl a shoe at it, I discover new functions that the shower has, breakfast, Training, dinner, with a weird look from the Avox every single time, and then bed, and it all starts over again. I know that this is most likely my last week on earth, and so I should be making the most of it, but I just seem to be going through the motions. Luckily, whilst those motions are tedious and repetitive, they do contain a lot of information, and I think I have retained enough of that information to keep myself and Ig alive in the Arena. At least, assuming that we don't get attacked, from wild animals, tributes or gamemakers. Before I know it, it's the night before the private training sessions. And I am terrified.

"What are you going to do?" I snap out of my reverie, blinking very slowly as I ponder the question. And I realise I have no idea. As I gaze out across the small sitting area me and Iggy are occupying, I think about how all of my talents are for nothing. Not that they won't achieve anything, but that they will make me, myself, non-existent. And you don't get points for not existing. I sigh and reach for Iggy's hand.

_I don't know. Maybe just random stuff- I don't really want a high score anyway. Too noticeable, I'd become a target. You? _I drop his hand and start to slowly swirl my finger in small circles on the patterned arm of my armchair.

"I don't know. Burn some stuff." A smile forms on my face before I realise he's not joking.

_Like, seriously?_ I sigh slowly, and let my head fall back onto the back of the loveseat. An Avox sidles into the room and starts to clear away the dust from in front of the fire. He shoots me some supposedly inconspicuous glances, and I trail my thumb absently over the scar running across my neck. I jump to my feet. I can't stand the Avoxes- I know it's not their fault, and they're just more people the Capitol are abusing, but that doesn't mean they need to keep giving the scars on my neck and around Iggy's face such weird looks.

Speaking of weird looks, Iggy has his head cocked to one side, his expression curious, even with his cloudy eyes. I think back to that first day, on the train, when we made up a load of signals for everything from "yes" to "Go back!". I recall the tune we designated for _come here_, and whistle the notes. It's simple and easy to remember, and it only takes a second for Iggy to get what I mean and follow me out of the room. I can tell he's following my footsteps, which must be hard for him as my feet sink almost soundlessly into the plush carpet. I consciously make my steps a little louder as I walk towards the elevator.

I push the button for the roof, then sink to the floor, squatting on my haunches as I watch the Capitol whiz by through the glass walls. Iggy seems to know I'm freaking out a little, and he keeps quiet. It's only a few seconds before we hit the roof.

Papillio told me how to get here a few days ago. He said it was his favourite part of his own building and I can see why. The Capitol skyline stretches for miles in every direction, like a tiny city made from matchboxes. With the orange sun setting behind the buildings and turning them into midnight silhouettes the Capitol looks like a painting, and for all their creepy-ass flaws, you gotta give the Capitol guys credit- they really know how to build a city.

My gaze grazes the rooftop. It's like a little garden, with trees and benches and flowers. I settle myself against the bumpy trunk of an Oak, plucking the petals from a daisy and trying to work out how they got a freaking Oak tree to grow on a roof. Needless to say, I pull a blank. Ig settles himself beside me, his long, gangly legs sprawling across the floor, and listens to the birds singing around us. I suspect it's a recording, but I think again as a brilliant green hummingbird flashes before me. Iggy finally breaks the silence.

"So? What was that all about?" I exhale loudly and reach for his hand.

_Just… They creep me out. The avoxes. Not because they can't speak- I'm not a hypocrite. But they constantly stare at our scars. And I don't like it. It's freaking bad enough already._

Iggy frowns slightly.

"they stare at our scars? Cherry would be annoyed. No manners." And, despite the fact that only two minutes ago I was having a slight freak out, I laugh, loudly. Yet again, my damaged vocal chords make it sound like I am choking, but I can deal.

Suddenly, I hear the whooshing of the elevator. I jump to my feet and pull Iggy with me to hide behind a bush. The doors slide open, and the male Aryan twin steps out. His eyes flick warily around, sliding right over our hiding place, then he walks quietly over to a tree near to the oak we were sitting under only moments before. Iggy gives a slight frown as the boys feet tap on the stone floor.

He slumps into a position that could be taken as sitting, with a certain stretch of imagination, his legs lying askew on the floor and his blonde hair flopping into his eyes. It doesn't matter, they're closed anyway. I blink slowly, checking that he won't open his eyes again, and stand up quietly, tapping Iggys hand twice. He follows suit.

_Aryan twin, 3 o'clock. We can get out without him noticing if we're quiet._

"Can't we stay? We were here first!" he breathes. I shake my head slightly, my hair rippling with the motion.

_No attention drawn, remember?_ He rolls his eyes, and murmurs "yeah, cause that's likely", but takes a few quiet steps back towards the lift anyway. I start to lead him back, weaving between the bright flowers. We're almost there when his hand brushes a shrub. The leaves rustle, and my breath hitches. The boys eyes snap open, and as I look into his gaze I see something, maybe fearful, in them.

_He's seen us. Game's up._ I tell Iggy, and he nods almost imperceptibly. I drag my eyes away from the boys, and pull a flower from a bush, skewering it on Iggy's shirt.

"what are you doing?" he whispers.

_Gotta make it look like we weren't spying on him. _I reply, lacing my fingers with his. He smiles a little, and reaches out to feel for another flower. This one he spears into my hair, behind my ear, and I'm reminded of that first day, on the chariots, when he stuck a rose thrown at us behind my ear. My throat tightens as I realise that, in a few days, we could both be lying in boxes, being shipped back to 9.

The boys eyes follow us, watching like a hawk as we slip through the plants. I make sure to rustle the leaves a bit. My silence is my best defence, and I can't let the careers know that. We reach the lift, and the doors glide open. Iggy takes a step in, and I twist round to take a last look at the career. He's still watching, and I raise one hand a little. The corners of his mouth twitch up slightly, and I turn back to Iggy again. The doors swoosh closed, and the elevator jerks a little under our feet before moving swiftly downward.

"well, that as weird" Iggy says, and I tap his hand twice in agreement. The lift jerks to a halt again, and we walk out into the hallway. I see a small crowd of careers gossiping at the end, and wonder why the boy was up on the roof, not down there.

_Pack of careers, end of the hallway. _I inform Iggy, and a mischevious grin spreads across his face. Before I can protest, he says loudly

"See you at dinner, Angel", then leans in and kisses me on the cheek. He speedwalks away, shoulders shaking with silent laughter, while the careers stare and whisper and I glare at his withdrawing form. Only one thought is going through my head.

What part of fucking lay low does this eejit not understand?

**A/N: I was doing a little research into pet names for the end of this, wanna know my favourite? "Holy crap I can't believe I ever married your worthless butt!". Made all the funnier because it was just tagged onto the end of a bunch of useful suggestions! Another I found funny was "Woman". Not the most affectionate, but hey. Whatever floats your boat.**

**Also, do you lovely Americans have eejit, or is that a Briticism?**

**Have I done this yet? Now, I know this will come as a big shock to some of you, but I don't actually own most of this. *le gasp from anyone reading this* yes, yes, I know. A revelation. Aside from the storyline, Calamtity, prep team, escort and victor, and also the absurd notion that District 9 produces funky pets, when it is common knowledge that 9 is grain (Oh, well. It's not canon), everything is either under the ownership of Suzanne Collins of James Patterson.**

**Reviews are, as always, eagerly hoped for and most unquestionably appreciated. Don't be afraid to criticise, and even a few words are valued! Anon accepted, too **


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